Following
by Maureen Painted Green
Summary: Set after the Season 3 finale. When Cameron leaves PPTH, House is faced with a decision that will affect him for the rest of his life. HouseCameron.
1. Giving Up

**A/N:** This picks up right at the end of "Human Error", the Season 3 finale. Definitely a House/Cameron.

**Spoilers:** Season 3

**Rating:** K+ right now. Subject to change.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned House, the fellows wouldn't have quit/been fired, and the Chase/Cameron kiss in the finale wouldn't have happened.

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Cameron pulled away from Chase with a sad look on her face. He looked puzzled for a minute, then leaned in for another kiss. He was more than a little surprised when she moved away from him.

"What's going on, Cam?" He asked, a little miffed. She looked up at him, and the anger was apparent on her face.

"It's _him!_" She replied. He understood instantly that she was talking about their older, masochistic, bastard boss. Or former boss, as it were. Cameron was on the verge of tears now. "I thought that if I just gave up on him and moved on with someone else, with you, that it would go away, but it's still there." Chase felt the disappointment start in. "You're an amazing guy, Chase, you're a good doctor, and you're a nice man, but..."

"I'm not him." Chase finished for her, tonelessly. She nodded silently as the tears streamed down her face. As mad as he was at her, Chase couldn't bring himself to be mean to her now. He gave her a friendly hug as she cried, and rubbed her back until the tears began to subside.

"God." She finally choked out, still sounding very sad. "I don't know why I can't just get over him. He's a bastard and he doesn't respect anyone. He's cold and distant and he's crippled and addicted to painkillers. He'd make an awful father, or even husband for that matter, but for some reason, he fascinates me."

"Yeah." Chase grunted, trying not to say something that would get him into trouble.

"Sorry." Cameron realized. "I shouldn't put all this on you. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted, Chase. I don't know if you understand it, but please don't hate me for this. You're the one I want to want. He's the one I need." She hugged him one last time, so quickly he might have imagined it. Before he knew it, she had climbed in her car and driven away.

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"I'll miss you." The words tumbled out of Cameron's mouth and seemed almost to echo throughout House's office. She touched his arm delicately, and a muscle jumped in his chin. This was the second time she had quit, and the second time he'd longed to beg her to stay, to grab her wrist and keep her from leaving. To raise her salary, cut her clinic hours, even take her on a date, anything to keep her from leaving. It was the second time he stood rooted to the spot, unable to do any of those things, as he watched her walk out of the door, and subsequently, out of his life. It was the second time that he closed all the blinds in his office, turned out all the lights, and blasted his iPod into his ears while he tossed his oversized tennis ball at the conference room wall with such enough intensity to break through the drywall itself. The evening turned to night and the iPod reached the end of its repertoire, and still he sat there, staring at a wall as he threw the ball against it, but not seeing anything at all.

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Cameron, on the other hand, was anything but contemplative. She walked quickly to her car, managing to keep her face somewhat neutral. Finally inside the safety of her own vehicle, though, the facade fell away. She sobbed and pounded her forehead against the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn and catching the attention of Wilson, who happened to be leaving. She quickly backed out of the parking lot and drove away from the hospital, loud music blaring from her stereo speakers.

She drove first to her favorite bar, but hadn't even gotten out of the car before she realized that the bar wouldn't help her tonight. Next, she drove to a club, figuring that the hip-hop beat and sweaty dancing would take her mind off of House. Once again, tears threatened to take over her face, and she pealed away. Finally, she pulled up outside of her apartment and dragged herself up the stairs. She flopped down on the couch, not even bothering to change out of her nice clothes, and popped in "An Affair to Remember". Grabbing the Ben & Jerry's out of her freezer, she curled up in front of the TV and let the tears fall.

----------

Cameron had finished with "An Affair to Remember", gotten all the way through "The Way We Were", and was starting in on "Love Story" when the phone rang. She spotted the cordless through the piles of junk food and kleenex that had formed all around her and answered it after only a moment of debate.

"Cameron." She managed to squeak out. Her throat felt like it was closing up.

"Did I wake you, Dr. Cameron?" Wilson's concerned voice greeted her.

"Unfortunately, no." Came the reply.

"House told me what happened." Cameron felt herself tense at the very mention of her former boss.

"I'm not surprised." Cameron decided it was best to try to pretend that she didn't care. She wasn't particularly keen on sobbing all her troubles through the phone to Wilson.

"He's in a bad way." Wilson admitted. "And I saw you in the parking lot, and I thought I should check on you too."

"I'm..." Cameron tried to say 'fine', but the word wouldn't come. A lump rose in her throat and she found herself breaking into racking sobs once again.

"That's what I thought." Wilson's voice sounded tiredly through the phone. Cameron felt bad for him, he was always the one picking up the pieces of House's shattered life. Or in this case, shattered department.

"I...I...I wish there was another way." Cameron began. "Any other way. I can't imagine not seeing him every day. I don't know why I can't get over him, and it scares me. I don't know why he means so much to me. There are times when I can almost hate him, when all I can see is that sarcastic, heartless bastard that everyone else sees, but then he does something. He makes a brilliant diagnosis and saves a patient. He finds the answer when it seems impossible. He sees things that no one else can. He challenges me and hurts me, but more than anything, he fascinates me. He's such a contradiction. Everything about him says he should never amount to anything. He's a drug addict, a cripple, and a complete masochist, but he's brilliant. He never gives up, even when we do."

"Are you giving up now?"

"No." She told Wilson quietly. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to give up on him. But sometimes, things just have to change."

"I understand."

"I wish that it didn't have to be like this, but I know he's not going to change unless something changes for him. Something that he can't control. I have to give him the time to figure out what he wants. I have to run away and hope that he cares enough to follow, even though it's the last thing in the world that I want to do."


	2. Aftermath

**A/N:** Thanks for all the response to chapter 1. Looking back at it, I'm a little surprised that I made Chase that nice. I must have been in a charitable mood. Here's part two...enjoy and give me some feedback!

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It had been a week. A week since all three of House's fellows had walked through the doors, never to return again. Foreman's stuff was first to disappear from the conference room, as he had already gotten most of it moved. He came in one last time to pick up the last few medical journals and to make sure everything was in order. Chase's stuff went next, as he spent a day in the diagnostics room organizing and packing all of it up. House avoided his office that day, not wanting to be attacked by a still-angry Chase. When the week was up, only Cameron's belongings remained. It was finally Friday, and the end of one of the longest weeks House could remember. He hadn't had any patients or even done any clinic duty, but it somehow seemed like the hours had become years. As much as he hated to admit it, he hated the fact that his fellows were gone.

He'd never admit it to them, or even Wilson, but for the past week, he'd been plagued with memories of the four of them sitting in the diagnostics room together, discussing a case. Cameron would be fiddling with her pencil or making his coffee while Chase sat at the table, deep in thought over the latest crossword puzzle. Foreman would sit straight up in his chair and focus alternately on the whiteboard and on House, throwing out suggestions like he had something to prove. They all did that, House realized. Because they all did have something to prove. That's why he'd hired them. His own handpicked team, the best one he'd ever had, was gone.

All this explained why House was still at the hospital many hours after everyone else had gone home (excepting, of course, those lucky few who had to stay the night). The diagnostics head once again sat in his darkened office with only the glow of his iPod screen for a flashlight. He glared out the window at the rain that fell all around, the biggest downpour the area had seen in years. As much as he tried to ignore it, his gaze kept wandering back to the glass wall that separated his office from the conference room. It wasn't quite empty, since all of Cameron's stuff was still there, but it was definitely a change. Not quite sure what he was doing, House pulled himself out of his semi-comfortable office chain and limped towards the door that connected the two rooms.

He slipped into the conference room, a mere shadow to any passers-by. He walked to the whiteboard, which still bore the symptoms of the Cuban refugee he had treated two weeks ago. His gaze went to the sink, where his red coffee cup sat, still waiting for Cameron to wash it out. _That wasn't going to happen._ House realized. As he looked around the room at all her belongings, a fresh wave of grief hit him. He saw the sweater that she'd always kept in the conference room for times when she'd stay late and the heat would be out. It had made her look like a small child trying on her father's clothes, but she'd claimed it was warm. He saw her laptop charger, still blinking green. His gaze flew to the stack of files she'd left on the conference room table, her glasses on top of the pile. _She'd be needing them._ He decided, pocketing them.

This room held so much of her, so many memories, so many shared glances. So many things left unsaid. It was all wrong. They shouldn't be gone. He shouldn't be lost in his own department. But he was, and they were, and at the moment, it was too much to handle. He crossed to the window and opened it, sighing as the sound of the rain filled the room, almost a tribute to the three fellows. As long as they were gone, House decided, the window was going to be open. He wanted to hear the rain.

----------

James Wilson looked up in surprise as his boss, the infamous Lisa Cuddy towered over his desk. He had been catching up on a little bit of his charting and a lot of House's when Cuddy had barged in, a whirlwind inside the storm.

"Dr. Cuddy?" He acknowledged.

"What the hell is wrong with House?!" She demanded, pacing back and forth in front of his desk. Wilson set down the pen and settled in. This was going to be a long one. "He fires Chase, pisses off Foreman enough to make him _resign_, and Cameron...well he's always been an idiot about Cameron." Wilson just waited, and Cuddy cooled off a bit. "How's he doing, anyway. I mean, he did just loose his entire department."

"He's in a mood, all right. I don't think I've ever seen him this bad, even after his infarction. He sits in his office all day with his iPod on, blasting his ears out. And he's got the windows in the conference room wide open. I went in the other day and tried to close one because it was raining in, and he nearly bit my arm off."

"Hmm." Cuddy wondered.

"It's my fault." Wilson stared down at his desk and felt rather than saw Cuddy's gaze shift to him.

"Precisely how is it your fault?"

"I told him to lay off on Foreman, to let him go. I told him he's a creature of habit, that he's afraid of change. I made a crack about this guitar that he's had since 8th grade. That's when he fired Chase. I can only assume Cameron quit because of that too."

"I don't blame you for saying it. God knows we all lose it with House once in a while. You of all people should know, though, that House isn't just going to let it go."

"I know." Wilson sighed. "He wants them back. I can see it. Sometimes, I watch him when he doesn't know I'm there. He's always staring into the conference room, almost as if he thinks they're all playing some kind of trick on him and they're going to jump out from under the table and yell 'surprise!'. He hasn't moved a thing in there. Even his favorite coffee cup is still sitting in the sink where Cameron left it. He's been using mine! He really wants them back. He many even need them."

"I see." Was all Cuddy said before she left the room.

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"House?" Cuddy's voice pierced the gloom of House's office. He looked up from his iPod and she could see the red in his eyes from the drugs and the insomnia. He was getting very thin too. He just looked at her, waiting for her to say her bit, not even feeling the need to comment on her ultra-low top. He looked tired. Broken, almost. She bit her lip. This was going to be tough.

"You need to hire some new fellows." Cuddy finally began. House stopped her with a glare.

"No."

"I know you miss your old fellows, House. I know this is hard for you, but this department is too valuable to this hospital for me to let it just fall apart."

"I told you." House began again. "No."

"And why, pray tell, not?"

"Because you're wrong. Without them, this department is nothing. It's just an old man with a cane and a drug addiction. There's no way I can ever find someone with the versatility of Chase, or the ego to believe in their diagnosis like Foreman. No one's gonna have the insane moral compass that Cameron had." _And I'm never going to be able to train a new team._ The voice in his head told him. _I'm not going to be able to teach them to break into people's houses to search for answers, to burn into their brains the fact that everybody lies. Because everytime I do, I'll think of what I gave up by trying not to care._

"So you're telling me you drove away your old department, but you're not going to hire anyone new?"

"Sounds about right." House replied, snarking a little, though his tone clearly showed that his heart wasn't in it. Cuddy thought for a long minute before speaking.

"What if I give you one more chance? Track down Cameron, Chase, and Foreman. Get them to come back. They can all have pay raises and more vacation time. I'll give you a month to convince them, and if they don't come back, you will hire new people." House didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes as she walked out the door was all she needed to know that he was grateful.


	3. Negotiations

**A/N:** Thank you one and all (once again) for all the reviews and support. Some of you have very keen insight into where I am going, and keep suggesting things that will, in fact, appear later in the story, which is frustrating to me as a suspense artist but thrilling as a writer. It could possibly be a bit of a wait for the next chapter (nothing major, a few days maximum) since this coming week is finals week for me. One more chapter to tide you over until then...

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House decided he would tackle Chase first. Since Chase hadn't actually quit his job in the first place, and was generally a pushover, he figured it wouldn't be too difficult and would give him a starting place in his efforts to persuade Foreman and Cameron, who would doubtless both prove tougher sells. His plan fully formed, House set about putting it in action.

House has decided that with Chase, he'd better attempt to be nice. He really does want Chase to come back, after all. That's why he was sitting in his office at five o'clock on a Thursday night with the phone in his hand. He dialed Chase's number and listened to the ringing for almost half a minute before Chase picked up.

"Hello?" Came the Australian accent.

"It's House."

"Oh. What do you want?" Curious, not angry, House noted.

"Meet me at Johnny's in half an hour." House commanded into the phone, not giving Chase a chance to object before he hung up.

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The bar was dark and smoky when House arrived, and one glance inside showed him that Chase had beaten him there. He sidled over to the bar and slipped onto the barstool next to Chase.

"Scotch." He informed the bartender. Chase acknowledged House's presence before directing his own attention to the bartender.

"I'd like a refill." He decided.

"It's on me." House reached for his wallet. Chase gave him an incredulous look.

"What the hell is going on, House?"

"What do you mean." House feigned innocence.

"I mean," The Australian was working hard to keep his temper in check, "You drag me out to a bar only weeks after you fired me for no apparent reason, you're acting nicer than you've ever acted in your life, and you just bought me a Manhattan without making any snide comments about girly drinks. What gives?"

"I want you to come back."

"Not funny, House."

"I'm serious. Cuddy's getting pissy because she has no diagnostics department. Wilson's getting pissy because he's alone, all the nurses are wise to his antics, and he's PMSing, and I'm getting pissy because I need underlings in order to solve cases, but I'm not about to go interview a whole bunch of brand new idiots and then spend years training them. I want the old idiots back."

"So basically, you're insulting me and at the same time, begging me to come back to my crappy job that I just got out of because it would make you happy."

"Basically, except I forgot to mention that there would be benefits of some sort. Cuddy wasn't exactly clear on said benefits, so you'll either be making more money or scoring more time in the sack with Cuddy. Either way, you win." House paused. "So, what'll it be?" Chase glared him with a look of disgust mingled with a little bit of awe.

"Fine." House drained his glass and left the restaurant as Chase lowered his head to the bar and shouted for more alcahol.

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With Chase back at the hospital to cover his clinic hours, House was free to go Foreman-hunting during the day. He decided he needed to refine his approach in order to convince the intelligent neurologist to return. He knew, though, that deep down Foreman hadn't really wanted to leave.

Which was why, he told himself, he had shown up at Foreman's apartment in the middle of the afternoon completely unannounced, carrying a stack of forms and a labcoat. He rang the bell and waited. Soon, Foreman emerged from the apartment. The confused look on his face deepend as he took in the sight in front of him, and was threatening to take over his entire face by the time he stammered in invitation inside to House, who accepted wordlessly.

"A brand new Fellowship." House finally began. "Effective immediately. Four years more as my subordinate and then an automatic promotion to department head, either in a newly formed second diagnostics department or in the neurology department. Salary increase. More benefits. Great health plan."

"You want me to come back?"

"I didn't want you to leave. You won't find a better offer anywhere, even with your credentials. A world-renowned hospital, and a department all to yourself in a few short years." Foreman hesitated. House sighed and began the second part of his practiced speech. "You're not me, Foreman. You never will be. You want to know why? It's because you care. It hurts you when you lose a patient. You don't like breaking rules. You actually keep records, for God's sake. You've seen what I am, Foreman. I know you're smart enough to see that you're not the same way."

"I still don't like you." Foreman replied, choosing his words carefully. "But I've decided there are better ways to prevent turning into you. I'll come back, but those benefits better be everything you said they would be."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, doctor." House tipped his hat cheerily. "Here's your labcoat. Oh, and by the way, we have a patient." House dumped the coat and the stack of files onto the dining room table, smirking his way out the door.

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Back at PPTH that night, House sat in his chair bouncing his tennis ball, the way he always did when he was deep in thought. Cameron's resignation still puzzled him. She was an unanswered puzzle and he wasn't quite sure what he would have to do to get her to come back. He doubted she'd ask him out again. She'd learned her lesson the last time she'd blackmailed him into a date. She was going to test all his persuasive powers, that was for sure, but he couldn't bear the thought of his department without her. He sat back in his office chair and tossed the tennis ball several times before suddenly sitting up with a start. He had an idea.


	4. Christians & Chinese Food

**A/N:** Here's the promised House asking Cameron to come back. Sorry it took so long.

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It was with much trepidation that House found himself standing in front of Cameron's apartment. he'd been putting it off for days until Cuddy finally got fed up with his mood and told him that if he didn't suck it up and go ask Cameron to come back, she'd have a florist deliver roses to every female nurse at PPTH, all of them bearing his name and a love note. Which, of course, explained the grumpy doctor's presence outside Cameron's apartment. He sighed once and knocked twice, using his fist instead of the omnipresent cane. He figured this would work better if Cameron wasn't pissed at him for messing up her door.

There was no answer, but House could make out the sound of voices through the door. He should have turned around and gone back to his motorcycle, but his curiosity got the better of him. He opened his Vicodin bottle and dumped the little white pills into his hand. In true Hollywood fashion, he placed the opening of the plastic bottle against the wooden door, and pressed his ear against the other end. His homemade eavesdropping device worked, amazingly, and he could hear the basic gist of the goings-on inside the apartment.

"Oh, that would be amazing, thank you." He heard Cameron say. "Sure." She murmured. "Thank you so much, Will, you're an angel. Absolutely." House felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. This 'Will' sounded a little dodgy. He was probably an escaped axe-murderer who had conveniently decided to use Cameron's inherent niceness to his advantage.

House's musings (which were quickly moving towards the extremely bizarre) were interrupted as the door opened. He fell across the threshold, as he had been leaning into the door in order to eavesdrop. The Vicodin bottle was still in his hand, and it was painfully obvious that he had been listening in. Cameron took once look at the sight in front of her (or rather, below her), and burst out laughing. House put on his best "affronted dignity" face and dragged himself to a standing position.

"Yeah, you're laughing now." He said, "But I'm not the one about to head out to the house of an axe-murderer who wants to rob me."

"What?!" Cameron's laughter subsided and turned to confusion.

"This Will...obviously bad news, Cameron. Any idiot could tell that." This statement caused Cameron to collapse in giggles once again, and caused House to become even more indignant.

"Will..." Cameron snickered. "Is the Chinese place guy. He keeps me in lo mein for now, but I don't know. The way he answers that phone is just so damn _sexy._" She was mocking him now, and he knew it. His face flushed a little, and he stared down at his shoes, embarrassed to have made such a big deal about nothing. Cameron took pity on him.

"Come on." She said. "I ordered plenty."

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It took no time for the two doctors to arrive at "Wong's Chinese Palace", mostly because they had taken House's bike, which had the convenient ability to weave through traffic. When they arrived, they learned that Cameron's order wouldn't be ready for another twenty minutes. They wandered back out into the parking lot, looking for something to pass the time.

"We could go to the bar on the corner." House suggested.

"No. That'd take a lot more than twenty minutes, with your drinking habits."

"Fine, you suggest something then." House walked over to the bike, which gave Cameron an idea. She grinned tentatively. "What?" House wondered.

"Will you teach me how to drive it?" There was a twinkle in her eye.

"God, Cameron, could you be any more of a teenager?" She gave him her best puppy pout. "Fine, but if you break _anything_, you're going to be in the ICU faster than Wilson's divorces." Cameron grinned and slid onto the motorbike, and House climbed on behind her.

"Left hand lever is the clutch." He began, his hands on the handle grips beside hers. "Right lever is the front brake. Right handle grip is the throttle. Left foot shifts, and right foot is the rear brake. This will be a million times easier if you know how to shift."

"I do." Cameron replied, starting the bike. She pulled the left hand lever and shifted into 1st. The bike moved forward.

"Okay." House told her. "Now go back to neutral." She attempted, but couldn't get it. The bike stalled and House sighed. "Again." Cameron tried again, and this time got the hang of it. Before long, House let her shift up to second, and they were cruising around the parking lot.

"Food's done by now." House remarked, as they coasted towards the spot they started in. Cameron grinned as she stopped the bike and dismounted. She went back in the restaurant to grab the food and returned within minutes, a large bag in her hand. House produced his always-handy backpack, and the food fit in quite nicely.

"You can drive back." House offered, shrugging the pack over his shoulders. Cameron couldn't believe that he would let her drive his precious bike, but smartly kept her mouth shut. She started the bike, and in no time they were zipping through the streets of Princeton. House's arms found their way around her waist, and the cool night air rushed by. The happiness was intoxicating. Too soon, they arrived at Cameron's building.

"Not too bad." House told her as he waited for her to unlock the door. "But I will always be the king of the Honda."

"Of course you will." Cameron agreed, feeding his over-inflated ego. She pushed the door open and entered, leaving House to follow. By the time she returned from the kitchen with drinks, House had made himself comfortable on her couch and was engrossed in a marathon of "The L-Word". She grinned and sat next to him, handing him a bottle and grabbing a Chinese food for herself. She assumed the reason for his visit would come out eventually. For now, she just wanted to enjoy his company.

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Morning rays of sunlight streamed through the windows of Cameron's apartment as she awoke to find herself sprawled across her couch. As surprising as this revelation was, it was nothing compared to the next one. Not only was she lying on her own couch, but beside her was her former boss, the irrepressible Dr. House. One of his arms was around he waist, holding her close to him, and the other dangled off the side. As much as she enjoyed their current position, she knew she had to wake him. He did have a job, after all.

"House." She said gently, trying to ease herself off the couch. His arm tightened around her in response, pulling her back onto his chest.

"Ten more minutes, mom." He groaned into her hair. She smiled in spite of herself. The temptation to let him stay like that, half asleep and holding her, was overwhelming.

"You have to work." She said, sitting up. He finally opened his eyes and looked around in surprise. "We fell asleep." Cameron answered before he even asked.

"Sure." House replied suggestively, and she found herself blushing. She stood and crossed to the kitchen, busying herself with the coffee pot.

"We need to talk." She found herself saying to an adorably sleepy House.

"Coffee first." He replied. "Talk later."

"Okay." She conceded. "Hey, open the door and grab the paper, would you?" House obliged, opening her apartment door and reaching for the newspaper. He was just about to go back inside, when a voice stopped him. He looked sideways and discovered an elderly woman looking at him with murder in her eyes.

"Why are you at Allison's at 6 in the morning?" The woman asked accusingly. "You're too old for her! Plus, it's a sin to be sleeping with someone you're not married to. Didn't your mother teach you anything?!" She made the sign of the cross and knelt to pray, as House shut the door and retreated inside to find a hysterical Cameron.

"Your neighbors are crazy." He informed her.

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The coffee was done, and both doctors were sitting in Cameron's living room sipping happily. Cameron broke the silence.

"Okay, you've got your coffee. Now talk. Why did you come over here?" House started at his hands for a minute before answering her.

"I want you to come back." He said. "I've got Chase and Foreman back already, and Cuddy's okayed a pay raise and more benefits. She'd be willing to negotiate a department head position for you in a few years as well. Plus, you're that much closer to tenure."

"House," Cameron began, unsure of how to approach the subject. "You haven't even thought about what you're asking me. I didn't leave because I wanted more money or a better job. I said I'd gotten all I could from the Fellowship, but I meant I'd gotten all I could from you. I wanted more from you than you were willing to give. At some point, I just got tired of waiting. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but I can't come to work every day, talk to you every day knowing that you'll never see me the way I want you to. You're like Vicodin, House. It's impossible to stop liking you, even when I try. I'm sick of beating myself up over something you said. I don't want to spend every moment of my life wishing you'd give me what I want. I can't work for you because it hurts. Standing here right now is killing me. Don't you understand that? This is the only choice I have."

"You left your glasses" House said, dropping said object into Cameron's hand as he limped out the door.

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**A/N:** It will probably be a while before the next update, I am going to be in New York for a while.


	5. Insult to Injury

**A/N:** You have my permission to kill me in a dark alley for taking so long to update. I've been traveling the world, and then I got really depressed about the spoilers for Season 4. Welcome to my life, here's the next chapter.

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For Cameron, the night after she told House to leave was pure torture. She couldn't stop thinking about all the things that could have been, might have happened if she could have just held on a little bit longer. She wished more than anything that House would someday feel _something_ for her, but the more rational part of her quelled that hope, reminding her that people could wait a lifetime for something, but that didn't mean it would ever happen. She hated the rational part of her mind.

Most of all, she hated feeling helpless. Her feelings for House were completely out of control. If she'd had her way, she would have been over House a long time ago. It was a bad situation, and the only good thing she could see in it was that maybe there was a reason she just couldn't give up on the idea of House and her. On some nights, that notion was the only thing that kept her sane.

She thought of him all the time. As she listened to her favorite songs, she wondered whether he'd agree with her taste in music. She wondered whether he'd be surprised to learn that her favorite movie was "The Godfather", or whether he'd ever wanted to hold her like she had wanted him to. Since the encounter of the previous day, her musings had grown exponentially, until she felt like thoughts of House were going to force her out of her own mind. She paced back and forth across her living room, wondering why she was having so much difficulty with the situation. For the first time since she could remember, she was faced with a decision where there were no easy choices. It would be so easy to take a job in another state, to move away and never come back, to work herself to death and become renowned in her own respect, but at the same time, it would be heartbreakingly difficult.

The whole situation was too much for her to handle, so she did what any sane woman would do; grabbed the Cappuccino Chip ice cream and headed for the couch.

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House, on the other hand, was the master of denial. He appeared completely unaffected by the scene that had played out between himself and Cameron, and was engrossed in "General Hospital" when he heard a knock on the door. Groaning, he heaved himself off the couch and went to answer.

"What?" He asked, swinging the door open.

"What did she say?" Wilson asked, pushing past House into the apartment.

"You know, Jimmy, you like to gossip so much that I often wonder if you might just have had a sex change somewhere along the road. No man likes to talk about feelings the way you do."

"Deflecting the question. That means she said no."

"Are you willing to bet your life on that analysis?"

"You know that if you don't get her to come back soon, Cuddy's gonna hire someone else. You have to get off your ass and do something."

"Hmm...no thanks."

"House, will you just shut up and be serious for once?! You obviously have feelings for Cameron. You know it. I know it. I'm not going to bother going into that again, but seriously. If you don't do something right now, you're going to lose her, possibly forever." The words hung in the air as House took a swig from a nearby bottle of scotch.

"I tried." He finally admitted. "And she said no."

-------------

A couple hours and several glasses of scotch later, House was tired and perhaps tipsier than he would have liked. However, he had finally succeeded in convincing Wilson to just go away. His overly sensitive friend had attempted to 'comfort' him, saying that House needed someone to talk to during this 'difficult time'. House groaned at the thought and pressed his face into a pillow. There was a muffled knock at the door.

"Jimmy, I told you! I'm FINE!" He shouted, flinging the door open. The person outside looked at him in surprise. "Well I guess I was right about that sex change thing after all." House smirked.

"Ha ha." Began a not-amused Cuddy. "So I take it from that little speech that Cameron said 'no'."

"Believe what you choose." House informed her.

"Well, I'm just here to tell you that if you don't get her to come back by Friday, she's not coming back at all. Goodnight." She turned on her heel and left as House shut the door and made his way to the fridge. He had almost finished the trek back to the couch when another knock was heard.

"Dammit, people, just leave me alone!" He flung open the door to see a very disheveled-looking Cameron. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were definitely red from crying. Even so, she was still ridiculously beautiful and House felt a lump rise in his throat just looking at her.

"Come on in." He told her quietly. She nodded and stepped inside, seating herself on the couch without a word. House crossed to the center of the room and waited for her to talk.

"I love this job." She began, her voice a little shaky. "I love the people, I love the work. It's interesting and fulfilling, and if it were just about professional things, I would stay here in a heartbeat. There's just one problem. I can't go back to the way things used to be, where I'd finally begin to feel good about myself, about my life, only to be cut down by you and spend the rest of the evening crying. I can't stay if you don't feel the way I feel. I'm done with hiding how I feel and pretending it doesn't hurt when you push me away. I don't want to spend every day watching you and wondering why you didn't want me. Sometimes, things just aren't meant to be, no matter how much we wish they were. I just have to let it go."

"So if you're leaving, why are you here."

"I know we're not especially close, but I don't really have any close friends. I just thought that maybe I could stay over here for a little while, just to have someone around. I mean, if you don't want me here, that's fine. Just say the word and I-."

"Okay." House said, more gently than anyone would have thought possible. "You can stay."

-------------

If this were a romance novel, House and Cameron would have lost control sometime during that night. Whether out of want or need, or maybe some measure of desperation, the inevitable would have eventually come to pass. But this isn't, and they didn't, and the want and need lived on, unsatisfied. In reality, that night was filled with a little drinking and a lot of crying, as Cameron grieved over the life she was leaving behind. House listened, being almost sweet for once in his life, and Cameron talked to him as she would an old friend, telling him about how much it hurt to leave a job that she loved and a man that she'd spent so long imagining a future with. It was one of the least sexually charged moments the two ever shared, because the situation was so clear. Cameron was hurting, and House was just there to be her friend.

-------------

It was late that night that Cameron finally dried her eyes and accepted House's offer that she stay and sleep on the couch. He left for his room, and when he came out in the morning, she was gone. There was no cliched, tearful goodbye, just simple, stark reality. It was unsettling to House how real and unreal it felt.

That entire day, House felt like a robot, actually doing his Clinic Hours without being asked, much less repeatedly reminded. He wandered around the hospital, doing his best to hide from the emptiness he felt in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole. Three times, he found himself in front of Cuddy's office, ready to tell her that Cameron had refused his offer, and three times, he hadn't been able to turn the handle. Finally, he just got on his motorcycle and drove.

At first, he drove without any clear thought to where he was going, but as he began to get nearer and nearer, he finally realized the destination to which his heart had been steering him all along. Killing the engine in front of Cameron's apartment complex, he walked up to the door and knocked twice. There was no trepidation or nervousness, only the feeling of necessity.

She didn't really look surprised to see him at the door, and she invited him inside quickly. He stood quietly inside her apartment, before opening his mouth to release the river of words that had been overwhelming him since she'd handed in her resignation.

"I don't know if you'll forgive me for being so blind. Don't ask me why I didn't see it, it might take me years to figure out, and that's not something I know too much about. I know that I hurt you. I know that I screwed up, and I'm sorry. There are things that have been left unsaid for far too long, and I just want to clear the air. I'm not going to beg you to stay if you want to go, but I want you to know that every time I see you walk out that door, the hell-hole I'm in gets a little darker. You are an excellent doctor, and a beautiful and captivating person, and if I've lost my chance with you, that's nobody's fault but my own. I guess what I'm saying is you've been so good to me and I haven't even remotely deserved it. I want to stop you from leaving, yell at you, grab your arm, whatever it takes. I want you to be here, to never leave, even when it gets hard, and I want you to want to stay. Right here. With me." He stopped speaking, and the words that he had spoken finally began to sink in.

"Thank you." Cameron looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

"You're welcome." He replied, his own voice growing husky as he turned to go. His hand was on the doorknob, when Cameron stopped him.

"No, you idiot, that's not what I meant." He turned around, not daring to believe it. "Thank you." She said once again. This time, though, her hands were around his neck before she could even finish speaking, and she stood on the tips of her toes to press her lips against his in a sweet, searing kiss. He could feel the wetness on her face, brushing softly against his skin. He gathered her up in his arms and held her close as he kissed back, not wanting to ever let her go again. For the first time since he was six years old, he felt complete. It was the best feeling in the world.


End file.
